


Let it Snow

by MyVantilene



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Slow Build, hufflepuff keith, slytherin lance, tries to sneak in as much wlw into my slashfics as possible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyVantilene/pseuds/MyVantilene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith had always dreamed of a scene like this; a family laughing over a home cooked meal, siblings making playful banter, two parents giving each other loving looks all throughout the night. Keith had wanted this, idealized it to the point of fantasy, to where he no longer believed such a beautiful and pure thing existed in the world. Now that it was in front of him, he should've felt reassured.</p>
<p>Here was the perfect family, but it belonged to Lance and Lance belonged to it. </p>
<p>Keith didn't.</p>
<p>(or that one Harry Potter AU where Lance tries to teach Keith the true meaning of Christmas)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it Snow

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is based on some headcanons that me and my good friend katie bounced around the other day but it grew out of control into its own monster i guess. 
> 
> i'm not british or a wizard so there might be a few errors, but enjoy

“Oh, god,” Lance groaned, flipping through all of Shiro’s handwritten notes, “How am I supposed to get all of this by exam week?”

 

“By, you know, actually trying?” Pidge suggested, reaching into the bag of chips in Hunk’s lap.

 

“I think the concept’s too advanced for him.” Allura said.

 

“I do try! Most stuff comes naturally to me, but I just don’t get potions. It doesn’t make any sense! It’s like muggle chemistry. Hey, Keith, you took chemistry in public school, right?”

 

“Wrong,” Keith answered, twisting the colored edges of a rubix cube, “I only went to elementary school before here, and the most we had to learn was, like, the water cycle and shit.”

 

“Sounds primitive.” Lance said, bored. 

 

“Well, I was six, so…” 

 

There was a lull when Lance should’ve gone back through Shiro’s notes and studied them, because that’s what everyone was doing - well, everyone but Keith. He had the nerve to show up to their study session and just play games in the corner. And it wasn’t like he came to talk, like Lance mostly had, because Keith hardly ever talked. He just sat there.

 

Lance gave an exaggerated sigh and slumped back in his chair. 

 

“This is communism.” He whined. 

 

“I’m surprised you know enough about muggle politics to make an accusation like that.” Keith said, never wavering from his task of puzzle-solving. 

 

“I know plenty of things, thank you very much,” he said, “And you may not have to worry about finals as much as the rest of us, but you are going to have to practice if you want to beat me next quidditch match.” Lance smiled. 

 

“No, I’m not.”  

 

“Yes, you - ”

 

“No, he’s not.” Pidge and Allura said in unison, not looking up from their flashcards. 

 

“Come on, you guys are always against me. And if you keep making rude comments during my matches, I’m going to the headmistress about getting you both banned for bullying.” 

 

“Making us watch your tragic fumbles also counts as a form of bullying.” Pidge said, “The amount of secondhand embarrassment I experience from watching you try to play quidditch has almost hospitalized me multiple times.” 

 

“You both volunteered to commentate!”

 

“I started commentating way before you were even sorted -”

 

“We’re only a year apart -”

 

“And learned so much in that year.” Allura finished, looking serenely off into the distance as if seeing something he couldn’t.  

 

“Well, I didn’t, so can we please get back to studying?” Shiro asked. 

 

“Man, I kind of lost all patience for studying, like, two hours ago,” Hunk said, “I don’t even know what time it is. Does anyone?” 

 

“It’s 11:38.” Keith said. 

 

“Pfft,” Lance scoffed, “And how do you know that? You haven’t looked up from the muggle cube for hours.”

 

“I’m wearing a watch,” Keith said evenly, “They’re these cool muggle devices that you can wear on your wrist and they let you know what time it is, they have numbers going around all the sides and different hands to let you know what the hour, minute, and second is -”

 

“I know what a watch is. I’m not a complete idiot, you know.”

 

“I don’t actually,” Pidge said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t this coming from the same Lance who spent an entire day of classes with his hand inside a jar of peanut butter because he couldn’t get it out, just last week?”

 

“Okay, we’ve all had our fun, but I would appreciate it if we talked about something else besides my personal flaws. Hunk, anything on your mind lately?”

  
“Just that I want finals to be over already. My parents and I are going skiing over Christmas break and all I can think about is how great the snow’s going to be.”

 

“Mhm,” Allura sighed dreamily, “Me and Coran are going to visit Dad in Paris and there’s this one bakery by the conference center that has amazing carrot cake. I’m getting chills just thinking about it.”

 

“My mom and I are going to visit my dad and stepmom in Rhode Island.” Shiro said.

 

“Isn’t that going to be… a bit awkward?” Lance asked. 

 

“With anyone else it would be, but they’re really nice and we usually have a good time. Mom says I can’t do magic while I’m over there, but I like to show my step brothers a card trick or two anyway.” he winked.

 

Pidge rolled their eyes.

 

“Me and Matt are going to do a series of bank robberies and maybe assassinate a world leader, if we have time. The details aren’t really important right now.”. 

 

“Sounds fun, are you going to tell us what you’re actually doing?” Lance asked.

 

“I’ve been sworn to secrecy, but I promise to be safe and drink plenty of water.”

 

“Good enough answer for me.” Shiro said.

 

“I’m looking forward to seeing my family,” Lance said, “My moms always get super into the Christmas spirit. I mean, you kind of have to be when some of your house guests still believe in Santa, but still. We always come up with special things to do for my nephew, like leaving little elf shoes or reindeer hoof prints around. It gets him so excited.” 

 

“Aww,” Hunk cooed, “That’s so cute. I miss having kids around the house.”

 

“What about you, Keith?” Lance asked.

 

“Do I miss having kids around the house?”

 

“No, smartass, what are your Christmas break plans?” 

 

“Oh. I was just planning on staying here,” he said, “It’s nothing fancy, but I guess you could call it a tradition.”

 

The room stopped. There was a pause that made Keith finally look up from his rubix cube.

 

“What?” he demanded. 

 

“Keith,” Allura said slowly and softly, “Why are you staying here?” 

 

“Wha - are you kidding me?” he looked at all of their faces, and slowly his indignation turned to confusion, “I thought you all knew.”

 

“Knew what?” Hunk asked. 

 

“That I don’t have parents.”

 

“Yeah, but…” Hunk started.

 

“We thought you lived with an aunt or an uncle or something.” Lance finished. 

 

“Well, I don’t,” Keith explained, no longer angry but definitely on edge, “Technically, I could go back to my foster home, but I’d much rather be here where there’s a buffet.”

 

“You can’t spend Christmas alone.” Lance said, after a long pause. 

 

“It’s really not a big deal,” he said, slightly unnerved, “Besides, it’s not like I’ve ever been big on Christmas anyway.”

 

“But you - come on, that’s bullshit. Everyone likes Christmas -”

 

“Not me.”

 

“Fine, you don’t have to like Christmas, but at least be a grinch somewhere else. You can come over my house, there’s always room.”

 

“Right, like I’m not the last person you want to see during the holidays. You definitely don’t want to have a grinch over.” 

 

“And pass up a great opportunity to teach you the meaning of Christmas?”

 

“Wait - you’re not serious, are you?”

 

“As a heart attack.”

 

“You really think it’s a good idea that I - Lance, you live on a farm and animals don’t like me, kids don’t like me,  _ parents  _ don’t like me - and it’s not a good combination, I -”

 

“Look, my house isn’t too far from the school. Bring a broom, and if you want to leave, no one’s going to stop you.” 

 

Keith opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. Lance must’ve appealed to his need to always have an escape plan. 

 

“Fine,” he conceded, “If it’ll get you off my case.”

 

* * *

 

 

Finals were over, and Keith found himself packing five months earlier than he should’ve been. 

 

Packing was the easy part; he had a tooth brush, a hair brush, a t-shirt, some boxers, and three school-issued robes, which all fit in a Transformer-themed gym bag that had been donated to the centers when he was 11.

 

The hard part was leaving. Keith had always enjoyed Christmases at Hogwarts. Things were quiet and cozy, almost no Hufflepuffs left at the school, which gave him plenty of room, plenty of time, and plenty of food. He read, mostly, educational books he had picked up from the library and some more self-indulgent YA books he had swiped from Lance’s collection before he left for the break. He wrote some, in a journal his potions teacher had let him borrow his first year. He had never asked for it back, so Keith had taken it as permission to keep it. Ever since he first had it, he had been planning a writing project. It was slow work, and consisted of ripping pages out more than actual writing, but he was getting there. 

 

Keith didn’t want to bring his writing journal because of the very real chance that Lance would go snooping through his stuff, but he also didn’t want to spend too long without it. Making a personal compromise, he stuffed it inside the gym bag, underneath all of his clothes. 

 

Keith was, admittedly, a little nervous about spending the holidays with people. When it was just him, he had his own schedule and didn’t have to worry about socializing with anyone. It might’ve been lonely at times, but it was less nerve-wracking than spending two weeks at his ex-sort-of-rivals’ house with his extended family. Keith wondered what would happen if they hated him just as much as Lance first had. It took four years for Lance to eventually sort of tolerate Keith, he didn’t have that kind of time with the rest of his kin. Maybe he could avoid them? Lance’s moms both worked for the Ministry of Magic and could probably afford a large house. Keith already knew they owned the farmland around their estate, and they had five kids, so that meant a lot of room to work with. Plenty of space to avoid people if he wanted to stay, and a borrowed broom if he wanted to leave. He breathed a bit easier.  

 

“You’re packing light.” Lance commented as they waited to board the train. 

 

Keith didn’t answer, so Lance continued, 

 

“Your bag’s nice,” he said, “Robots are always a good choice.”

 

“You like robots?” Keith asked, trying to gauge whether or not Lance was making fun of him. 

 

“Who doesn’t? Actually, you know who would really get a kick out of your bag? My cousin Gabriel loves robots a little too much. He’s super into muggle technology, he loves taking things apart and putting them back together. Me? I’m more of an alien kind of guy, but I can see the appeal.”

 

“Transformers are robots  _ and _ aliens.”

 

Lance gasped. 

 

The train pulled up, steam rolling off the top in waves, screeching to a halt on the platform. 

 

“Hey, I can help you take some of your bags.” Keith offered, gesturing to the mountain of luggage to behind them.

 

“No, I’m good,” Lance assured him, grabbing the handles of three rolling suitcases in one hand, wrapping the duffle bags around the top, throwing two backpacks around his shoulders, and using his free hand to hoist two large purses and a broomstick. By some miracle or glitch in reality, Lance was able to carry all of it with him into the train car. He sat down and sighed heavily. 

 

“I hate to admit it,” Keith said, sitting down opposite of him, “But I’m actually impressed.”

 

Lance gave an impish smile and put his feet up on the mountain of luggage surrounding them. 

 

“That’s nothing. My mom can carry seven times that much when we go on family trips.”

 

“Wizards go on trips?”

 

“Of course, you think muggles have a monopoly on family bonding?”

 

He wouldn’t know. 

 

“Besides,” Lance continued, undeterred, “My mom likes us trying muggle things every once and awhile, just so there’s not so big of a culture shock in case we ever…”

 

He stopped, his lips twitching upwards in an unwanted smile. He propped his chin up onto the palm of his hand and laughed, 

 

“They are going to  _ love  _ you.”

 

Love was a very strong word, and the lack of it in his life had made it mean something even stronger to Keith. Lance had used it mostly in reference to his own family; how Keith was going to love them, and how much Lance loved them already, but he had never made any prophetic statements about them loving  _ Keith _ . People didn’t love Keith, as a general rule. They liked him sometimes, thought he was smart or talented or whatever, but love was something leagues bigger than that. 

 

Of course, Lance probably meant it in place of like, or maybe it was his flare for theatrics that made him use the word, maybe a force of habit. In his home, it was probably a common thing to say. Keith didn’t let himself dwell on it any longer than that. 

 

“What makes you say that?” Keith asked nonchalantly, or at least tried to.  

 

Lance looked at him, confused, before a huge smile broke out on his face. 

 

“Oh,” he rubbed at an imaginary goatee, “You’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

Lance’s moms were the first people Keith saw after exiting the platform. He knew they were Lance’s moms because one had the same dark skin and thick hair as him, and the other was holding her hand, wearing one of Lance’s Just Made an Awful Pun smiles. Lance immediately went to hug them both, squeezing so hard they looked like they might pop. The shorter one pushed her wife out of the hug.

 

“I changed more diapers than you,” she said, “I get the first one-on-one hug.” 

 

“Yeah, well I lost the most amount of sleep with him, so it’s only fair that I do.” 

 

“Moms, Moms,” Lance said, “There is enough of me to go around.”

 

Keith watched this scene unfold, Lance and his moms hugging, exchanging meaningless, loving banter as if it meant nothing, as if love was some inexhaustible resource to them. It made him smile, thinking about all the warmth and history between the three of them, but then he remembered himself, standing there awkwardly, just staring. Lance seemed to remember him too, as he let go of both his moms and slung an arm over Keith’s shoulder. 

 

“This is Keith.”

 

“Oh,” the taller one said, smiling, “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

“All good things I hope.”

 

They exchanged a look, twin smirks on their faces that eerily reminded him of Lance, and he felt his stomach drop. Was this a trap, the invitation just a build up to some elaborate prank? Did he bring him here, to his family, just to humiliate him? 

 

He had a broomstick, Keith reminded himself, he had an escape if Lance tried anything. 

 

He breathed a little easier. 

 

“Actually, he told us - ”

 

“Hey, uh,” Lance interrupted her hastily, “Can we finish introductions and go on our way, I’m freezing out here.”

 

“Okay,” the one who looked the most like Lance said, “My name’s Christina, but you can call me Tina if you want. It’s normally what the little one calls me because he can’t say the whole thing.”

 

“And I’m Ana,” the shorter one said, “But I’ll also respond to your highness.”

 

“I’m Keith.” He said, then mentally hit himself for it because  _ of course, that’s already been established.  _

 

They laughed, and he couldn’t tell if it was mean-spirited or not. 

 

* * *

 

The ride to the house was fairly short, as Lance promised it wasn’t too far from the platform, and Keith was able to memorize the route in case he needed to find his way back alone.

 

Lance’s house was three stories of beautiful wood paneling and open windows. It was flanked on all sides by rows upon rows of strawberry bushes, with stables and chicken coups towards the back. Once they arrived, a large black lab ran from the fields to Lance, knocking him over and layering on wet, slobbery dog kisses. 

 

“Hey, girl,” he laughed, petting the top of her head, “Did you miss me? Yes, you did, yes, you did.” 

 

Keith would’ve found the scene cute if he hadn’t been downright terrified.

 

Once Lance was back on his feet, she turned her attention towards Keith, barking excitedly. He took a step back. She started barking louder and Keith instinctively grabbed onto Lance, using him as a barrier. 

 

“Whoa there, tough guy,” he said, “Shelley doesn’t bite. Do you, Shelley? No, you don’t.”

 

It never helped when people told him that. 

 

“She seems like a nice dog but I -” Shelley barked again and Keith involuntarily whimpered, gripping Lance’s arm tighter. 

 

He expected another joke at his expense, but instead Tina intervened, getting in Shelley’s face and ordering her back out towards the fields. She obeyed without a second thought. 

 

To his credit, Lance didn’t say anything, but that just might’ve been because he was filing this away to use as blackmail later, when he had a more suitable audience.

 

“Come on,” Ana said, leading Keith towards the front door, “There’s still more McClain’s to meet.”     

 

* * *

Inside, there was a grand sweeping staircase and high ceilings covered in little, floating lights. A fifteen-foot Christmas tree was decorated from head to toe with ornaments that changed shape and color and picture frames that changed from picture to picture as if queued on some sort of slide show. There were four couches set up around a large TV, and a bar with a window gave Keith a brief glimpse of the kitchen. Sitting in the bar stools and sipping on glasses of butterbeer, were four beautiful girls.

 

Once they saw Lance, they immediately descended.

 

“Wow, your rat’s nest is looking better than usual. Have you actually been brushing?” One of them said, ruffling his hair as he squawked indignantly.

 

“Lana, leave your brother alone.” Tina admonished monotonously, taking Ana’s hand in hers and slipping into the kitchen.

 

“Yes, Mami.” Lana replied, equally as bored.

 

Each of his sisters gave him a welcoming hug, even Lana, who did so begrudgingly and whispered something that sounded suspiciously like “watch your back” in his ear.

 

Lance responded with something that sounded suspiciously like “I’m already two steps ahead of you.”

 

Keith thought the moment was sweet, if a little terrifying. He had grown up with foster siblings who fought each other like hardened veterans, so he wasn’t sure if that sort of thing was normal in good homes. He assumed they were joking, just to be safe.

 

They spent a little time catching up, referencing things Keith didn’t get, gossiping about people Keith didn’t know, and he stood off to the side, nodding and pretending like he was keeping up with conversation, but inside feeling deeply awkward.

 

“Enough about you, Lance,” one of the taller ones said, “Tell us about your friend here.”

 

“Oh, right,” Lance said, and Keith tried not to feel too bothered that he had seemingly forgotten about him being there, “This is Keith. Keith, these are my sisters. This is Rebecca, she’s the oldest. She works as a healer at St. Mungo’s, and she somehow convinced the hottest man alive to marry her.”

 

“Lance,” She rolled her eyes, then turned to Keith, “Thanks for putting up with him on a regular basis.”

 

Her frizzy hair was pulled back in a low-hanging ponytail, and she wore a plain blue dress.

 

“It’s a group effort.” Keith assured her. She flashed him a private, knowing smile, as if they were the only two people in on a joke. He liked the feeling.  

 

“Rude,” Lance crossed his arms, “I am a delight and you are all lucky to have me. Anyway, this is Ruth, she also works at St. Mungo’s and she used to be a Hufflepuff too.”

 

“You’re a Hufflepuff?” Ruth asked. She had the same warm smile as Ana had when they first met, a matching dimple on the side of her face. Her wiry framed glasses glinted from the floating lights above.

 

“Don’t get excited, he’s an awful Hufflepuff.”

 

“Lance –”

 

“No, it’s okay. He’s kinda right.”

 

“I’m sure he’s not. There’s no way to be a bad Hufflepuff as long as you’re trying.”

 

“Neeeerd.” Lana whisper-yelled. Ruth covered her mouth.

 

“And this is Sophia, she works as an Arithmancer because she’s crazy smart and has like, 294 muggle PHD’s.”

 

“It’s nice to meet –”

 

“She also has a super hot muggle girlfriend.”

 

“Lance!” she cried, her face going dangerously red, “She’s just a friend, why can’t you let me get through one introduction without bothering me about it?”

 

“Because no one looks pretty in denial.”

 

Keith thought she looked pretty anyway, with her soft brown eyes and sweeping bangs. She was wearing an oversized green sweater with a black mini skirt. Keith found her sheepish nature endearing.

 

“Well then you’re not looking so hot yourself.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“As I was saying,” she purposefully ignored him, her lips drawn in a tight smile as she turned back to Keith and shook his hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Y-you too.” He replied, slightly dazed. There was so much history here, between these five. Everything carried a double meaning. 

 

“Aaaaaand that’s it. Those are all my sisters. Now, if you follow me –”

 

Lana elbowed him.

 

“Ow, fine, that’s Satan, she was a Gryffindor a couple years ago, now she’s trying to get a muggle degree in psychology, and so far has no super hot girlfriend to show for it.”

 

“That you know of.” She smiled conspiratorially, saddling up next to Keith, “Now, I feel that one last introduction is in order. That is Lance. He’s unemployed and he once cried for six hours because Mama didn’t get him the racecar cake he wanted.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Language!” Ana called from the kitchen.

 

“I stand by my eight year old self. I hinted about wanting a racecar cake all year and you gave me a regular circular cake.”

 

“It’s been nine years please let it go.” Ruth said.

 

“You’re being insensitive,” he took Keith’s hand and began leading him towards the staircase, “I’m going to show my good friend Keith the rest of the house because he actually cares about my feelings.”

 

“While you’re doing that, can you show him where he can put his stuff down at?” Ana asked.

 

“Sure, Mama.”

 

“And put your bags away so they’re not blocking the living room?”

 

“We’ll see, Mama.”   

* * *

 

 

“I like your sisters,” Keith admitted out of nowhere, as they were finishing their tour of the upstairs, “And your moms.”

 

“I told you that you’d love them.” He said smugly.

 

“When did I say anything about love?”

 

Lance opened his mouth, and then closed it.

 

“Just give it time.” He said after a long pause.

 

He stopped at the end of one of the corridors and opened the door.

 

The room was painted a dark navy color and there were posters up for quidditch teams and wizard bands that Keith hardly recognized. There were little lights all over the ceiling that resembled stars and Keith could spot Ursa Major right above the bed. It was a spacious room, if a bit cluttered, and in the left hand corner there was a small blue couch that had been cleared off, a couple brooms and some t-shirts thrown to the side around it. 

 

There were pictures of Lance’s family around, members he had recently met and members he hadn’t, and a couple pictures of their friends through the years. There was Lance as a first year with his arm around Hunk’s shoulder, a couple candids of Pidge sleeping or eating that looked like they were being held as blackmail, some of Allura, posing for the camera with a duck face in her third year that was also probably blackmail, some of Pidge and Allura commentating at quidditch games, some of Hunk playing, some blurry ones of Shiro running, Allura and Shiro after falling asleep in the library, Pidge giving the statue of Salazar Slytherin bunny ears, Shiro giving Pidge a piggy back ride to class, Hunk chugging butterbeers at The Three Broomsticks, Allura buying jelly beans on their trips to Hogsmeade, one of Hunk wearing a Christmas tree sweater, taken just last week.

 

There were no pictures of Keith.

 

It made sense that there weren’t; Lance had never been his biggest fan, but at the same time, there were a lot of recent pictures. He should’ve at least been in the background or something. Unless his absence was intentional. 

 

It shouldn’t bother him. Why would Lance want to remember Keith while he was back home? Lance had said in their third year that he preferred disembowelment to the sound of Keith’s voice. In their second year divination class, he had “predicted” Keith would die alone with six cats. Three weeks into his first semester at Hogwarts, Lance said Keith had a face not even a mother could love. He hadn’t known then, but still.

 

He was right. 

 

Lance had been nice for the first week of classes, and suddenly, abruptly, something had changed. Anything Keith had to say made him angry, anything he did or didn’t do deserved vocal and public criticism. It had taken Keith years to worm his way into their friend group because Lance had always been trying to keep him out. Keith thought maybe he had finally changed his mind. 

 

Maybe not. Maybe he just got tired of Shiro lecturing him. Maybe this trip was a mistake, maybe-

 

“This is my room.” Lance said, pulling Keith a little further out of his own head. 

 

“I-It’s nice.” 

 

“I try,” he said breezily, “Since we have some more relatives and friends of the family coming, space is going to start getting a bit tight in my lovely abode. Your invitation was a little last minute so we’re going to have to split the room, but you can have the bed.”

 

“What?”

 

“Right, sorry, I probably should’ve told you earlier. I mean, I can sleep on the couches downstairs if you’re uncomfortable with - ”

 

“No, no, it’s fine, I just,” Keith took a deep breath and tried to ground himself in the present, to remind himself this Lance was different from the old Lance, “I’m not going to make you give up your own bed. I can sleep on the couch.”

 

“You’re not making me do anything. It’s my choice as a gracious host to give you the bed.”

 

“Lance, you’re not gonna make it two weeks sleeping on the couch.”

 

“I definitely can and will.”

 

“Come on, don’t be stubborn. I don’t want to be responsible for your back problems.”

 

“The couch is comfy and I’m not going to have back problems - ”

 

“The General!” 

 

“What -”

 

“No, I - look!” He pointed to the threshold and Keith looked over to see a big white cat silhouetted by the hallway light. She gave a small “mew” and darted off.

 

Keith felt like he had been briefly visited by an angel. 

 

“That’s General Lee. She never comes into any of our rooms because she’s mean and nasty.”

 

“Aw, she didn’t seem mean or na-”

 

“Keith,” Lance leaned in closer, “The General will scratch your face off the first chance she gets. She hates people, she hates babies, she hates dogs, she hates other cats. She is filled with pure, unadulterated rage. We used to have fish. You know what happened to them?”

 

“What happened t-”

 

“General Lee happened to them.”

 

Keith felt dread pool in his stomach.  

 

“Do you have any other murder pets you want to warn me about?”

 

“We have another dog, but she’s a little corgi named Daffodil. We call her Daffy for short,” Lance said, then stopped, “Wait, are you afraid of all dogs or is it like, only the big ones?”

 

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

 

“Oh, come on, why not? We all have our fears, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

He was being sarcastic, probably. Keith didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he put his Transformers bag down on the couch. 

 

“You know,” Keith said, crossing his arms, “You’ve done a shit job of teaching me the meaning of Christmas so far.”

 

“All in due time, my Festive Apprentice.”

 

“Please never call me that again.”

 

“You can’t expect to recapture your Christmas spirit in one day, Keith,” he said, ignoring the comment, “It takes time. Besides, you haven’t met Rebecca’s husband yet. He took Aaron to see the horses. We could probably catch up with them - unless you’re afraid of horses too?” 

 

Lance sounded like he was sincerely worried, but Keith knew he was just looking for a way to get under his skin.

 

“I’m not afraid of horses, I just - I just don’t feel comfortable around - I mean, she’s outside and I -”

 

“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to go out there now, I’m sure they’ll be done in a little bit and you can meet them when they come inside. And dinner’s going to be ready in a little bit - you know, we should probably go ask moms if they need any help because if you ask they’ll give you an easier job, but if you have to be told you’ll end up getting dish duty.”

 

“But doing the dishes is fun.” Keith said without thinking. Rationally, he knew it was a lame thing to say, but he had always enjoyed doing the dishes. It gave him some time to clear his head in a house that was always full of noise. 

 

“Keith,” Lance put a hand on his shoulder, pity laced in his voice, “Am I going to have to teach you the meaning of fun too?”

 

* * *

“Mama!” Lance called into the kitchen, “Is there anything me and Keith can help you with?”

 

“Well,” Ana said, “Rolls are almost done baking, Sophia’s on rice cooking duty, Lana’s got the black beans covered, Mami’s got the chicken, Ruth’s setting the table, and Rebecca’s already done with the yuca, so I guess there’s really nothing right now. Maybe you two could do the dishes when we’re done?” 

 

“But Mama -” he groaned.

 

“You’re right, Keith’s a guest, he shouldn’t have to do the dishes,” she turned to Keith, “Lance will take care of it, so don’t worry about a thing, sweetie.” 

 

Lance groaned even louder. 

 

“It’s okay,” Keith said, “I don’t mind helping at all.” 

 

Lance stopped mid-groan.

 

“What the hell, no, you’re a guest.” He said.

 

Keith tilted his head in confusion.

 

“Uh, but you just -”

 

“Hey, the beans and rice are ready.” Lana said, hoisting the pot off the stove and towards the dining room table. Sophia followed suit, setting the vat of rice down on a tomato-shaped potholder. 

 

“And I’m almost done with the chicken,” Tina said, “You guys can go ahead and sit down, I’ll be there in a bit.”

 

The stove beeped, and Ana put on oven mitts covered in glittery hearts. Keith wondered absentmindedly if glitter helped insulate, but he figured they were just there for aesthetic purposes. Ana pulled them out of the oven, perfect, golden-brown crescent rolls, the type that he knew came in a cylindrical blue plastic, but looked gourmet. The smell was overwhelming. It was like the first meal he’d had at Hogwarts all over again, the disbelief that anything so beautiful existed and that Keith was allowed to have a piece of it. 

 

She set them down on the table, and Keith took a seat next to Lance. On the other side of the table was a large, handsome man who Keith assumed was Rebecca’s husband, a cute little four-year-old bouncing in his lap. 

 

“Hey, Jose, this is Keith. He’s a friend from school.”

 

Jose smiled in a way that made his eyes crinkle.

 

“It’s good to meet you, Keith. How’d finals go for you guys?”

 

“It was alright.” Keith shrugged. 

 

“He’s being modest,” Lance said, “Keith got nearly perfect marks.” 

 

Keith felt his face flush. He hated attention, hated how nervous and anxious he felt, like something was being asked of him but he either didn’t know what it was or didn’t have it. Was he supposed to accept it or argue against the compliment or - 

 

“Thank you.” he said, honestly. Because no matter how socially awkward or wrapped up in his own head he was, he understood that Lance was trying to be nice, and he really appreciated that change of pace so far. 

 

Lance stopped, speechless. 

 

Maybe thank you wasn’t the right thing to say? Keith had always fought against Lance, teeth barred and witty quips always at the ready, but lately he just wasn’t feeling it anymore, and maybe Lance just wasn’t used to who he was when he lost the energy to fight. 

 

“Chicken’s ready!” Tina announced, strolling into the dining room with a brilliant smile. Once she set it down, everyone immediately began to serve themselves heaping piles of rice and beans and rolls and chicken and whatever yuca was. Keith didn’t reach for anything right away. For a moment, he was just content to watch them. 

 

Keith had always dreamed of a scene like this; family laughing over a home cooked meal, siblings making playful banter, jibes that didn't really mean anything because there was always the overtone of love, two parents giving each other looks all throughout the night, jokes only members of the family could get. Keith had wanted this, idealized it to the point of fantasy, to where he no longer believed such a beautiful and pure thing existed in the world. Now that it was in front of him, he should've felt reassured, his hope for humanity restored in some capacity, but all he felt was empty and sad, like he always felt when picturing it. 

 

Here was the perfect family. He was sitting with them, so close to their joy and their love and feeling none of it, like standing in front of a great fire and still feeling cold. A loving family existed, but it belonged to Lance and Lance belonged to it. 

 

Keith didn't. 

 

And as he watched Jose feed his son tiny spoonfuls of rice and Lance laugh at something his moms had said, he realized that he never would. His window for adoption had closed. The only way he could have a family like this was if he somehow tricked someone into settling down with him, and considering his lack of interest in the female sex, the odds were not in his favor. 

 

“Are you okay?” Sophia leaned in and whispered, loud enough for Keith to hear, but quiet enough that Lance couldn’t. 

 

Keith felt touched by her concern, and gave her a brief nod despite the fact that he wasn’t. 

 

* * *

 

When dinner was over, Keith tried to help Lance with the dishes, but was ushered away by his moms, insisting that he shouldn’t lift a finger. Instead of trying to argue against them, he allowed himself to be shown where the bathroom was. They told he could take a shower whenever he wanted, and showed him how to work the tricky shower knob so that it didn’t pour out freezing water on him. 

 

He took a quick shower, changed into his t-shirt and boxers, brushed his teeth, and by the time he was done, Lance was waiting for him back in his room. 

 

He was lying down on the couch, pillows and blankets already arranged. 

 

“Really.” Keith deadpanned. 

 

“Just enjoy the bed, okay?”  

 

Keith turned back to the bed and put his hands on his hips. Keith was in the bathroom for 15 minutes. It probably took Lance around 7 to get all the dishes done, then 3 to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth, then 2 to get blankets and pillows, leaving him 3 extra minutes to somehow tamper with the bed. Just to be on the safe side, Keith began patting it down and inspecting it on all sides. 

 

“Uh, what are you doing?” 

 

“Making sure you didn’t do anything to this bed.”

 

“Dude, it’s  _ my  _ bed. I wouldn’t risk doing anything to it.”

 

“Fine.” He huffed, lying down, “Good night, Lance.”

 

“Good night, Keith.” He replied, turning off the light.   

 

* * *

 

Keith was startled awake by a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” He reached for his knife instinctively and panicked when he couldn’t find it amidst the cool sheets. 

 

“It’s me,” Lance said in a fake-ghost voice, “The Ghost of Christmas Past.”

 

Keith, seeing no real danger, quickly shifted from scared to annoyed. 

 

“What do you want?” he mumbled into the pillow. 

 

“I want to show you something.” He whispered, his voice slightly reverent. 

 

Keith blinked for a few seconds, taking in Lance’s bright eyes and the flashlight in his hand.

 

“If you want to trick me, you’re going to have to do a lot better than that,” he huffed, falling back onto the bed, “I know what you did to Rolo in our third year.”

 

“I’m really hurt that you don’t trust me, and that you think I would be so tasteless as to repeat the same prank twice. No, this doesn’t involve any foul play. I just want to show my good friend Keith a cool thing.”

 

“You know what? It’s late, I’m tried, and I give up,” he whisper-shouted, angry but still aware of other people trying to sleep, “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or sincere or whatever and I don’t care anymore. Let’s get this over with. Like ripping off a band-aid.” 

 

“A what?” Lance tilted his head, confused. 

 

“Forget it. Just lead the way to wherever the fuck, I don’t care.” 

 

If Lance had done all this just to catch Keith off guard, then he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

 

Lance stood up on the bed and pointed his flashlight up at the corner of the ceiling. Keith stood up too, trying to get a look at what he was doing. 

 

Lance whispered something too soft for Keith to hear and the ceiling peeled back enough to allow a small rope ladder to unravel. Giving Keith a wink and a toothy smile, he climbed up into the crawlspace above. 

 

Keith followed suit, and found himself outside, facing the brunt of the elements, a blanket of stars surrounding him on all sides. He shivered from the cold and from the magnitude of them.

 

They were on Lance’s roof. He had somehow enchanted a shortcut from his room to here. 

 

But there was nothing up there besides shingles, stars, and… and Lance. 

 

“Okay,” Keith said irritably, “What’s really going on? Are you gonna push me off the roof?”

 

Rationally, he knew Lance didn’t bring him all the way out here to kill him, but for a moment he thought that if he had, Keith would throw himself off so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of pushing him. 

 

It was a dark intrusive thought and he tried to ground himself in the moment again, feeling the coarse texture of the shingles digging into his knees, Lance’s eyes trained on him like they had been since day one, hungry and angry and something Keith couldn’t place. 

 

“The stars are brighter up here.” He said simply. His feet swung back and forth as he looked to Keith for some sort of response.

 

“You woke me up in the middle of the night to look at stars?” Keith asked, “That’s something Allura or Hunk would do. A Lance move would be pushing me off the roof.” 

 

He said it before he could think better of it, but Lance took it in stride. 

 

“Well, that’s plan b, so I wouldn’t get too comfortable. But I’m Lance and this is my current move so you’re going to have to deal with that.”

 

“Alright, and am I supposed to guess why you brought me up here?”

 

“You  _ could _ . Or you can just ask.” 

 

“This is an alien abduction site and you’re going to try to trade me for an alien.”

 

“Man I wish I knew where a reliable abduction site was. You’d never see me again if I’d already found it.” 

 

“Okay, then I stand by my first guess.”

 

“Wrong.”

 

“You want to show me constellations.” 

 

“Why don’t you just ask?”

 

“Because then I’d be playing into your game.”

 

“And what game do you think I’m playing?”

 

“I - Look, I’m tired, I don’t know what you want from me, but it’s probably something rude so I’m not going to humor you. I-I’m not,” he yawned, “gonna play the game.”

 

“Fine, no more games,” he took a deep breath, “I find this place calming. I thought you might need it because…” He hesitated.

 

“Because?” Keith demanded. 

 

“Well… Hunk told me about, you know, how you sometimes get nightmares.”

 

Keith felt his stomach drop. 

 

“When? How much did he tell you?”

 

“Not a lot, not a lot,” he held his hands up placatingly, “Just that you get them. He told me before we left for my house, in case anything happened, you know, so I wouldn’t freak out.”

 

Keith sighed wearily. 

 

“I’m sorry if I woke you up or something, I can always sleep downstairs on one of the couches if it bother you that m-”

 

“No, no, you didn’t - you didn’t wake me up. I was already… sometimes it’s hard for me to sleep. My brain just gets too…  _ noisy _ and this,” he gestured vaguely towards the sky, “has always helped me, so I thought it might help you.”

 

Keith was silent for a moment, mulling that over.

 

“How did you know that I was having a nightmare?” 

 

“You, uh… you kinda talk in your sleep? Not too loud, I couldn’t sleep myself so, I…” He trailed off. 

 

Keith blinked.

 

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

 

He shrugged.

 

“Just happens sometimes. I used to try lying down and waiting to fall asleep, but that only makes it harder because I get agitated the longer I can’t fall asleep. I find it easier to just pick up something small to do and do it until I tire myself out.”

 

“And what is there to do out here?”

 

“Count stars.”

 

“That’s…” Not what Keith was expecting. 

 

“I know, kinda cliche, right? But it helps. I used to talk to my sisters, but when I got older I decided it was best to just deal with it on my own. Have you ever tried it? Talking, I mean.”

 

Keith sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. 

 

“Never really had anyone to talk to.” He confessed.

 

“You had Hunk.”

 

“I didn’t want to bother him,” Keith said dismissively, “And Shiro was in a different house and I really didn’t want to bother him either.”

 

“Why’d you never come to me?”

 

Keith snorted. 

 

“Right.”

 

“What’s so funny about that?” Lance asked, sounding defensive. 

 

“Lance, you hate me.”

 

“I don’t hate you.”

 

“Fine,  _ hated _ me.” 

 

“I didn’t hate you either.”

 

“Okay, then my first three years at Hogwarts was just some mass hallucination?”

 

“I didn’t hate you,” Lance repeated angrily, “I hated that you were better than me.”

 

That couldn’t be it. Lance was always flaunting the fact that he was better than Keith, sometimes purposefully, and sometimes accidentally. Lance was well-liked in their classes, lovingly picked on by teachers, deeply valued by his friends, and unconditionally loved at home. How could Keith compare to that? He was naturally good at potions, and he got the hang of quidditch early, but so had Lance. If second year Lance had died, it would’ve been a long funeral procession. If Keith had died, there wouldn’t even be a eulogy.

 

It was a fact that second year Keith had considered almost obsessively. 

 

“I was jealous.” Lance admitted quietly. 

 

“Of what? I had nothing. I  _ have  _ nothing. You… you have everything.”

 

“Because that’s what I was born with. I didn’t earn it, but you did. At first, I liked being able to show you stuff, but then you got better than me at.. at  _ everything _ and you didn’t need my help anymore and it was petty and stupid and I regret it but there’s nothing I can do to take it back now, is there?”

 

Keith turned on his side to look Lance in the eye. He couldn’t be serious. This whole time the problem had been so easy. Lance didn’t hate Keith. 

 

_ Lance didn’t hate Keith.  _

 

But for all the damage he did, he might as well have.

 

“Lance, you made me feel like shit in the one place where I was supposed to be accepted. I want to say it’s no big deal because, I mean, I’ve always felt like shit, but I… a lot of the stuff you said stays with me. That I was going to die alone, that I had,” he felt his throat constrict and his eyes burn, “the kind of face not even a - not even a mother could love, but you were right, weren’t you?” 

 

“Keith…” Lance wrapped a hand around his arm, and normally Keith was bothered by that kind of touch, but he felt grounded by it now, “I was just being a stupid kid, none of the things I said to you were true. Most of them I stole from my older sisters. I didn’t think it bothered you that much, because I didn’t think you cared about anything and I was mad because that meant you didn’t care about me.”

 

“You were mad I didn’t care about  _ you _ ? Do you realize this trip is the first time you’ve been nice to me, ever? And what the fuck, you have this pictorial shrine to all of our friends and I’m not even in a single shot. Why are you so worried about whether or not I care when every person you’ve ever met cares about you? You don’t need me too.” 

 

Lance was quiet for a moment, facing away from Keith.

 

“There were pictures of you.” He said so quietly Keith thought he must’ve misheard him. 

 

“What?”

 

“I asked Sophia to take them down because I thought it might creep you out.”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“Am not.”

 

“Show me then.”

 

Lance looked like he’d rather be pushed off the roof, but he took a deep breath and said,

 

“Fine.”

 

He did his little spell again, and Keith watched as the roof peeled back and the ladder sprung out to let them back down into Lance’s room. They landed on the bed with a  _ thump  _ and Lance quickly untangled himself from Keith. He tugged a dresser drawer open and pulled out a couple different polaroids. 

 

“See?” He held a couple out so Keith could get a good look at them.

 

One was at a quidditch meet, another of him asleep in the Hufflepuff common room, another of him at dinner, eyeing the feast with something akin to lust. There were a couple others, but Lance flipped through them so quickly they were nothing more than colored blurs. 

 

“When did you take all of those?” Keith had never once seen him with a camera. 

 

“It’s a spell,” he explained, “I take snapshots of things I see and I can save them. Ruth taught me how to do it.”

 

“That’s... oddly sweet.” 

 

“Good, I’m glad we got all of that hating each other bullshit cleared -” Lance was interrupted by a yawn.

 

His eyes widened and he looked at Keith estatically.

 

“I’m tired!” 

 

“Congratulations?”

 

“Usually it takes me forever to get tired. Guess there’s nothing more emotionally draining than hashing it out with you, huh?”

 

Instead of responding, Keith darted towards the couch and laid down before Lance could stop him.

 

“Keith!” he groaned.

 

“Take the bed, asshole.” 

 

Lance rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine, but tomorrow night you have it.”

 

Lance put his flashlight away and settled into bed.

 

“Good night, Keith.”

 

“Good night, Lance.”

 

And they both finally slept.     

 

**Author's Note:**

> general lee is a real cat and a war criminal and i'm not sure how to put links in here but you can see a picture of her here: dollygale.tumblr.com/g 
> 
> (if it wasn't already obvious) i'm on tumblr as dollygale if you guys have any questions about updates but pls keep in mind that i work 3 jobs and am about to be going to school full time so be gentle with my sleep deprived ass


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